


We walk through the shadows

by levilion



Series: We walk through the shadows [1]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6645208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levilion/pseuds/levilion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This mission could take you all over the world if we’re to find out what’s really going on, and you’ll be mixed up with all sorts of nasty business - and even nastier people. You may need to get your hands dirty from time to time. Can I trust you on this, Tim? Can I count on Red Robin to lead my Outsiders?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	We walk through the shadows

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic because I wanted to read something that felt a little bit like the pre-52 Red Robin book: thrillery, spy-ish adventure, with Red Robin being a badass! I picture this series being about Tim Drake (and Stephanie Brown) leading a team of covert operatives through the criminal underbelly of the world, investigating a conspiracy on Batman's behalf. This will be an action-oriented series, but there should be a lot of Tim/Steph fun, and a lot of special guests as we go on. I've never been very active at fic writing nor reading, but hope to do this for a while, so I hope you people enjoy! :) any criticism is welcome, so don't hesitate to write. :)

CHAPTER 1 - Stealing is a work of art

Robbing a museum was something Tim Drake could do without breaking a sweat, but today, he had a different name. Alvin Draper was an internationally renowned art thief, and Alvin Draper had his own particular methods.

Red Robin would had spent weeks casing the target, learning the timing and behavior of its every employee, infiltrating the security system and exploiting its flaws. Everything would be perfectly planned, and the planning game was one in which Tim Drake could not be beaten. But planning was boring, and for Alvin Draper to infiltrate the international smuggling ring known as The Market, he needed to impress by making it up as he went along, to make everything look as exciting as possible.

His target was Kahndaq’s National Museum, located on Shiruta, its capital city. It currently held no. 7 at the “World’s Most Well Guarded Museums Rank”, according to the  _ Museums Weekly Magazine _ \- an interest that had caused the other Robins to tease him over many times before. Number seven wasn’t enough to build up his name as an art thief powerhouse, so he decided to make things interesting.

Instead of acting during the guard shift to follow the path of least resistance, Tim had chosen to go in during the museum’s busiest day and hour, courtesy of a fundraiser thrown by Wayne Enterprises. Security had twice its usual manpower, and the many civilians could also cause him some trouble. Tim would need to move at just the right speed in order to double the corners without being seen - which wouldn’t be particularly hard, since he was trained to move like a silent shadow by the world’s best master of stealth.

Tim also hadn’t tampered with the security cameras - instead, he planned on passing through their blind spots. The tricky part would be moving in a way that seemed like a blend of luck and skill, but avoiding cameras and security guards at the last possible millisecond. That was something he learned from Dick’s stories about his circus days: entertainment was about keeping the watchers at the edge of their seats. 

He entered Kahndaq’s National Museum through the kitchen’s back door after being cleared by the guards posted outside - adding his name to the buffet’s employee list was an easy way to get access to the party. Even on such high profile events, the rich people were too concerned with themselves to bat an eye on the  _ lower class _ , which gave him an easy exploit. Turns out rich people were just as idiots in Kahndaq as they were in Gotham.

The kitchen was filled by the smell of well cooked lobster and a very fancy pesto sauce - it was also filled by well-meaning workers and a single worker who did not mean that well. Alvin walked past the bald dude with scars on his forehead, who was switching his gaze between Tim and the ingredient cabinet. Alvin nodded in return and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His package was there, so Tim started to undress.

Alvin Draper moved slowly through Kahndaq’s National Museum’s crowded floor between sips of wine. He looked like he was in his natural habitat thanks to all the Wayne galas he had to attend - and to the expensive italian suit his newfound friends had smuggled inside for him. Surfing his way through the entrepreneurs, the warlords and the socialites, he took mental notes of everything that could be useful for his infiltration. Cameras’ positions, guard’s patrol routes, the few members of The Market who were so obviously keeping an eye on him. Their glasses looked like last generation video transmitters, which was good. His little show  _ should _ be seen, and he wasn’t going to be spotted by the museum’s security feed.

“Alright, Alvin Draper. Let’s see what you can do.”

Tim had also tapped into their comms. Hearing the dangerous men with thick russian accents talk about his abilities was weirdly soothing. And yes. They would definitely see what he could do.

First step was getting access to the museum’s mainframe. It looked like the staff had locked up every item that wasn’t on display for the particular exhibition they were celebrating that night - which meant the item he was there to steal was nowhere to be seen. Tim looked across the room. He spotted people with two kinds of security clearance: the bracelets with a blue light were given to the patrons, granting them access to the VIP lounge. The actual security staff had red-light bracelets to go along with those huge biceps and poorly concealed guns. Tim analyzed their postures and movements trying to spot the weakest link, but it didn’t seem like there were any. The guards were synchronized, covering all major entry points at all times. 

_ They’re well trained _ , Tim thought.  _ But I’m better. _

Alvin Draper crossed the floor, trying to approach the guards. There was no way he would be able to get close enough, let alone steal their bracelets, without drawing attention. That was it. He needed their attention elsewhere.

Walking towards the most crowded part of the floor, while making sure he wasn’t being seen, Alvin smoothly slided his hand inside a tall man’s back pocket. If Tim wanted, he could pick the pocket of every guest there without being noticed. Instead, he purposefully yanked the man’s wallet and quickly threw it against another bystander, walking out of the way. It didn’t take a second for the man to cry out  _ “thief!” _ and point towards the supposed criminal, prompting security to walk their way. While they went to grab the man for questioning, Alvin used his shoulder to give another man a little shove - just enough to knock him towards the guards. The room had already been crowded enough without those sudden motions. Now, chaos reigned, and before the guards were able to handle the situation, one of them had their bracelet missing.

Tim felt bad getting those civilians into trouble - he wasn’t Jason Todd. Still, Bruce was very clear when he gave him the assignment: he wouldn’t be able to succeed if he tried to play nice all the time. He looked at the agents who were tracking his movements, and they seemed pleased. Their russian chatter proved they were.

The bracelet gave Alvin access to the server rooms. To his left, there was a door that held the security cameras’ controls, the guards list, the alarm system - things he could’ve used if he had chosen to do things his way. But he didn’t have time, it wouldn’t take long for the guards to realize something was off. He had to find the museum’s schematics and figure out where the paintings were being stored, so he simply sat by the main computer to his right.

Tim used his bracelet to bypass the computer security, which was only 3 seconds faster than if he had tried to hack his way inside. A few clicks and he had the answer he was there for: basement, two stories down.

Tim heard noises outside. Two guards, walking fast, talking on their radio. They were coming his way.

The guards entered the room. The computer was off, nothing seemed to be amiss. Above them, Tim hid behind the ventilation ducts, holding his breath to avoid making any noises. He could take them down quickly, but they would be missed. This wasn’t time for confrontation.

“Nothing here,” one of the men said through his radio, speaking in arabic as most people in Kahndaq did.

“Roger that. Stay there and make sure no one gets in. I’m sending two more guys to help you go through the cameras, and another two to watch the corridor.”

Tim didn’t have a lot of time. If he didn’t act now, it would become even harder to exit and continue with his plan. Maybe it was time for confrontation after all.

Before the guards realized, someone was dropping right at their heads, hitting them hard and keeping them out of balance. The men went for their weapons simultaneously, but the invader held their hands down to prevent them from drawing. Instead of guns, they ended up with snapped fingers, to which both screamed in pain.

“What’s going on here?!” said a voice from behind the door that led to the camera room. The door opened, and the man saw Alvin Draper kneeling next to his fellow guards, who had a bump in their heads and seemed to be knocked out.

He tried to scream, but Alvin Draper was faster. One of the guard’s baton was thrown right at the standing guard’s nose, and the second it took him to flinch from the pain was enough for the assailant to move closer and catch him on a chokehold.

“I’m sorry,” Alvin said in his perfect arabic with no hint of foreigner accent. “I’ll make sure you all get raises.”

This changed his plans. He was reckless and careless, something Red Robin never was. But maybe this was how Alvin Draper handled his heists. He would need to speed things up and  _ oh fuck. The Market didn’t see me do all this stuff. _

_Okay. Change of plans number two._ _I need to be fast enough to avoid the guards, but not too fast for The Market’s agents. This is getting trickier and trickier._ Which wasn’t at all bad. Tim liked challenges.

Tim left the server area and went back to the party floor, dropping his stolen bracelet inside a very planty vase. The restricted area would actually get him to his target faster, but he needed those Market boys to watch, so he took the long way around, going down the stairs after passing in front of an agent  _ (could these guys be  _ less  _ inconspicuous?) _

Back into the restricted area. Tim stood in the first corner, back to wall, using the screen of his cellphone as a mirror to check for the movement. A few seconds counting, and he knew the angle and the speed at which the camera was moving. A few more seconds and the he timed the guards’ footsteps. It would be easy to cross, except…

Tim walked towards The Market’s agents at the beginning of the corridor.

“If you try to follow me, you will screw up my whole operation. Give me your glasses, and you’ll know my every move,” Tim spoke in russian, his voice had the gravitas he learned from his crime fighting mentor. The agents didn’t seem to like it.

“I won’t double cross you. I steal, you guys fence, that was the deal and I still need you.”

The agents didn’t answer, but the silence was broken by the radio chatter on his earpiece.

“Give him the goggles,” said the russian who sounded like the boss, and the agent obeyed. Tim put them on, and it was show time.

Alvin Draper had to wait a few seconds for the least common multiple to kick in (another one of his useful nerdy activities), making the camera’s blind spot align with the guards position and line of sight. Tim didn’t waste a second, running and pouncing without making a sound. He moved that way through the whole corridor, and every single dodge he made at the nick of time was followed by a russian expression that could be roughly translated as “ _ holy fuck, this is one slicky little fucker _ ”, and Tim chuckled every time.

The door to the next basement floor was guarded by a gigantic guard. He was probably the biggest guard Tim had ever seen.  _ “His mother must’ve fed him Venom,”  _ Tim thought to himself. He could’ve used the air vents he had seen when he inspected the map, moving to the next room without major problems. Instead, The Market was watching, so maybe it was time for some physical display. That was something he learned from Jason: going for the strongest foe first, to let everyone know you’re the one who’s in control.

Tim walked into the guard’s eyesight, and he reached for his gun immediately (“ _ the little fucker is fucking fucked!” _ screamed the russians through the tapped comms _ ) _ , but Tim was already upon him, fist to the guard’s forearm, gun falling to the ground. The guard opened his mouth to cry for help, but his throat met Alvin Draper’s open palm in a quick strike that left him out of air.

The guard got angry, and tried to grab Alvin by the hips, to knock him off the ground. Instead, Tim used the momentum to jump over the man, kicking the back of his legs to bring him down. The guard fought it off, throwing punches that were never fast enough to hit his target.

That was enough. The Market had already seen how he fared in a one-on-one fight, so it was time to end the combat and let the poor guard rest. A leg sweep brought the giant to the ground once more, and a fast punch to the nose rendered him unconscious. Quick and clean. The restricted area was all his.

“ _ Damn,”  _ said the russians through the comms, “ _ I’ve never seen anyone move like that.” _

__ _ “I heard the little fucker trained on a ninja camp in Gotham City,”  _ answered Russian No. 2, and Tim couldn’t help but smiling. He thought it would be a good idea to incorporate the first time he used the Alvin Draper alias to his background. Also, ninjas were badass, despite what Jason said.

Tim moved across the floor, dodging more cameras - but luckily, it didn’t seem like there were guards this time around. The next room presented a different problem altogether: a complex laser grid stood between him and the last door before his actual goal. Laser grids were deadly, and this particular set seemed to be truly unpredictable. As if it wasn’t enough, the floor was rigged with pressure pads, so sitting still and waiting for the lasers to assume a more favorable position wasn’t an option. Deadly, and truly unpredictable. Tim’s favorite kind of puzzle. He smiled, and went inside with a cartwheel.

Tim moved with fluid somersaults he took from his big brother’s acrobatics training - although he’d never been as graceful as the Flying Grayson, he trained his butt off to look close enough. Mixing those jumps with some swings from Alfred’s endless friday night salsa lessons made his moves look extra sexy ( _ note to self: never tell Alfred he made me look sexy _ ). The lasers got too close for his own taste a couple of times. Balancing his whole body weight on one hand while he shifted leg positions also wasn’t super easy. Still, thanks to Dick and Alfred, Tim was able to fly through the room, to the russians very loud exclamations of “ _ holy fuck. That’s one slicky little fucker”  _ yet again. Hacking into the door’s control panel was a much easier and faster endeavour, and in a few seconds, the door was open, and he was inside the vault.

There it was. Kahndaq’s most famous painting,  _ The Pyramids of Infinity _ . The Market was after this item for a long time, and it took them Alvin Draper’s expertise to finally get it. Tim took his tools and got to work. The laser pointer opened a hole at the painting’s support case, exposing the security circuitry. The motion sensors were sabotaged by a WayneTech chromatic repeater. Tim attached a pneumatic simulator to take care of the pressure chamber. The refrigerator fluids nullified the alarm current, and just like that, the glass case could be safely removed.

Tim carefully took the painting, putting it inside his pack that looked small on his back but could be unfolded to fit the frame’s size. He counted his steps along the wall, finding the one step of the infiltration he had actually set up previously: his escape route. The vault walls were made of a thick alloy that scrambled all kinds of communication, which included the goggles. There was no one watching anymore, so he could drop de Alvin Draper and step back into Red Robin to leave smooth and clean. By inputting a command line on his wristwatch, a small detonation happened at the floor right beneath his feet, taking him to a breach he could use to access the museum’s maintenance grid if he squeezed just enough. Closing the hole behind him, Tim navigated the underbelly of the museum in the dark without needing to look down - he had memorized the pathway before. It’s true, he could have used those tunnels to get inside from the start, but that wouldn’t have been impressive at all, and impressing was the reason he was there.

After a few minutes and another carefully placed explosion, Tim Drake found himself in Shiruta’s poorly treated sewer system - but being prepared made him come out just beneath a manhole cover, which, once open, made him emerge on an empty alleyway. The black night sky was his cover, and the robbing was successful. It had actually been easier than he thought it would be - and it had actually been fun. Maybe he could do that again some time. Jason would probably love it.

But his thoughts were stopped by a  _ Bang _ . The unmistakable noise from a gunfire shot filled the night, and the air that shifted close to his face let him know the bullet had broke his skin. His cheek felt hot from the blood that started dripping. “ _ Careless. Shouldn’t have been caught.” _

“I’m sorry, pretty boy, but I can’t let you walk away with our painting.”

The woman with short black hair spoke in english, but her thick russian accent and her camera-goggles were clear indicators of who she was representing. “ _ Shit. I didn’t see her inside the museum” _ , Tim thought, quickly adopting a fighting stance.

“ _ Mr. Alvin Draper, you performed magnificently.”  _ Through the comms, Tim heard the russian man who kept praising him during the heist. “ _ Unfortunately, you’re just too good to be kept running around, especially after touching our prize.” _

While the man spoke, the whole squad of agents who were following Tim inside the museum had showed up, cutting all his possible escape routes. They were armed, and he wasn’t packing his combat gear. There were some ways he could avoid them, though. His wristwatch could send an electromagnetic pulse to fry the streetlights, and the odds were in his favor when it came to vanishing in the dark. Maybe if he could activate it quickly without catching their attention, there would be a chance.

“I told you, you don’t need to worry. I won’t double cross you. Were in this together.”

But his answer was another  _ Bang. _

The black haired girl shot him in the chest. “ _ Careless. Shouldn’t have been caught.” _

Alvin Draper closed his eyes, and all around him, everything turned into night.

 

\--------------

 

“You want me to infiltrate a smuggling ring? Isn’t that more of a Jason job? He’s the criminal Robin” Tim said, throwing quick jabs at Batman’s direction. Bruce laughed in return. Tim missed seeing Bruce laugh.

“I heard your Alvin Draper alias had been gathering some attention amongst serious art thieves while I was gone. We could use that to speed up the infiltration process,” he said, between a series of jabs of his own.

Tim parried his mentor’s blows, answering with a fast upward kick. “What’s so special about this organization?”

Bruce blocked Tim’s kick and moved back, breathing heavier than before. “They’re called The Market, and there’s something fishy about them. They’re new players. I’m still not sure who’s running the operation, but they have dangerous connections. They’ve been stealing and moving weapons all over the world with surgical precision, but after watching their patterns, I realized each of their major hits had been designed to distract and cover up an art theft. I’m still trying to figure out what their plan is and what links the items they’re going into so much trouble to hide, but the amount of resources they’re funneling into these operations is a clear indicator that something bigger is at play here.”

“And you want Alvin Draper to find out what it is and dismantle their activities.”

“I don’t think Drake can handle it, father. You should send me instead.”

Damian had snuck behind their sparring session, carrying a big rectangular box behind his back. Bruce gave the little boy his famous Batman stare.

“From what I hear, Tim Drake- _ Wayne _ can handle anything we throw at him. Didn’t he defeat your grandfather and put an end to the League of Assassin’s while I was gone?”

Damian shrugged. “I could’ve done that if I wasn’t busy saving Grayson.”

Tim scoffed. He hated that obnoxious little prick.

“Anyway. Here’s the painting you asked for, father. The original one was not particularly impressive. I could’ve improved on it, but instead I just did what you requested.”

Bruce nodded. “Thank you, Damian. Now, don’t keep Alfred waiting. Me and Tim have some things to talk about, and Alfred is waiting so you two can finish your  _ Hannah Montana  _ marathon.”

Tim started to laugh, but Damian gave him a look that was so similar to their father’s it actually made him a tiny bit afraid.

“Don’t even think about it, Drake. Grayson told me to watch it since she represented the best of both worlds just like me, and I… I got a little involved. Because I don’t like to leave matters unfinished. That’s all.”

Tim gave the boy an accusatory look, and Damian just looked back in disgust before walking away, stomping as hard as he could. Tim hated that obnoxious little prick.

“Where was I?” asked Bruce, throwing a bo staff at Tim’s direction so they could resume their training.

“Their next target is the Kahndaq National Museum. I asked Damian to craft an exact replica of the painting they intend to steal, with an added monitoring device. If you accept the mission, I’ll use Wayne Enterprises to switch the real one for the fake, and you’ll steal it for them.”

“Of course, Bruce,” Tim answered while their staves clashed. “Anything you want.”

Bruce sighed. “That’s not all. It’s no secret I want you to handle Batman, Inc.’s stealth division. Well, I thought this would be a good way to actually start.”

Tim smiled. After all he had been through, it was great to see Bruce trusted him that much.

“You’d need to earn their trust, and you’d probably stay away from Gotham for a long time. This mission could take you all over the world if we’re to find out what’s really going on, and you’ll be mixed up with all sorts of nasty business - and even nastier people. You may need to get your hands dirty from time to time. Can I trust you on this, Tim? Can I count on Red Robin to lead my Outsiders?”

Tim felt warm inside. This was an achievement. This was what he worked for. This trust was everything he ever wanted, and he had earned it. He was good. He was  _ Batman-good _ . He wasn’t going to be a sidekick anymore. He would lead. Batman asked him to lead. He wanted this so much. But his smiled faded when something else caught his mind. 

“I… I actually wasn’t planning on leaving. Steph just came back, and things are still weird between us but we’re trying to work things out and if I left now, it would all just… I… I don’t know…”

Bruce smiled. “I thought you’d say that. That’s why I’ve already talked to Stephanie. She’s been undercover for a week.”

Tim didn’t know what to say. The only thing he could think of was a russian expression that roughly translated as “ _ holy fuck. That’s one slicky little fucker”,  _ but he would never say that to Bruce out loud.

  
  


_ \--------------- _

 

The girl with short black hair walked through The Market’s safehouse’s slim corridor. Capturing Alvin Draper almost singlehandedly was enough to promote her from “freshly recruited rookie” to a “not-so-freshly recruited rookie anymore”. It wasn’t much of a difference when it came to her salary, but they trusted her now - not enough to share secrets such as where they were actually keeping Alvin Draper, but enough to get her where she needed to go to find out.

Picking the locks to the server room was easy. She had picked locks since she was a child. That was possibly the one good thing about being the daughter of a super criminal.

The girl with short black hair flexed her fingers. The computer was on, so she clicked and typed and boom, in a few seconds, she had hacked into the camera feed.

“Okay, Timothy. So  _ that’s  _ where they’re keeping you.”

The girl with short black hair removed her short black wig, storing it inside her bag. She lifted her hood, covering her actual blonde locks, and smiled behind her mouth-mask.

_ All right, Stephanie, you got this. Spoiler and The Outsiders. This is your time to shine. _

**_It’s Steph Time_ ** _. _


End file.
